He Stopped Loving Her Today
by singitanyway13
Summary: They made it through so much. But just how strong can a family be? Story five in a six part series.
1. Chapter 1

**He Stopped Loving Her Today**

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><p>It had been a week. One week since Henry had been in her home. The first day, he was a normal obedient kid. The second day, however, he was that of a demon. Breaking things, swearing, ignoring commands. And what was so irritating, was that he did those things when Brock was not around. The kid was an angel when Brock was in the room, but as soon as he left, Henry would terrorize Reba.<p>

She stood in the living room, holding Esme and looking out the window, waiting for Henry to wake up from his nap. It was May 29th, and school had just let out for the summer. Reba had to stay with Henry all day while Brock was at work and Jake was gone with friends or up in his room all the time.

Reba had discussed Henry's behavior with Brock, but all he told her was that he was in new surroundings and wasn't used to new people telling him what to do.

"I'm not new people," Reba muttered as she watched a car go by. "He knows who I am. He knows this house."

She turned away from the window to sit on the couch, not bothering to turn on the television.

"Boo!"

Reba screamed and jumped, waking Esme. She could hear Henry's giggle as he ran into the kitchen over the baby's cry.

"Henry!" Reba yelled.

No answer.

She turned her attention to Esme, who was still screaming. "Shhh. Don't cry, darlin'. Henry, get in here!"

"Hey, what's with all the yelling?"

Reba turned to see Brock walking in the front door with his work bag, his eyes tired.

"Henry just snuck up on me and scared the heck out of me. He woke up Esme." She bounced the baby up and down as the screaming continued.

Brock set his bag down by the staircase and loosened his tie. "He was probably just kidding around."

Reba shoved Esme into his unsuspecting arms and walked off towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?"

"Going to find _your_ son.

"Reba..."

She found the kitchen empty. Going to the backdoor, she flung it open and found him playing basketball, like nothing had happened.

"What's your problem?" Reba demanded, walking up to him.

He didn't respond. Instead, he stopped playing and stared at her, the ball resting between his forearm and hip.

"Answer me!" Reba yelled. Her face was hot and her eyes were raging. The few nerves she had left were shot to Hell and gone as she gave him another chance to respond. "Answer. Me."

When he didn't, she lost it.

There was no sound as she brought her hand back and swung it towards his face, connection with a _smack!_ that rang throughout the air.

He began to cry and dropped the basketball. Reba felt a whoosh of air as he ran past her and into the house.

She stood there for a minute, sustaining herself. She figured Henry would probably tell Brock she tore the gutters off the house and swung it at him, but she didn't care. The little brat got what he deserved.

She kicked the basketball into a nearby potted plant, cracking it. She didn't care about that either as she picked up the ball, dribbling a few times. She shot it towards the net and patted herself on the back when it went in.

"I still got it," She said as she walked inside and shut the door. Henry was already complaining to Brock when she got into the living room.

"And then she swung it at me," Henry was saying. "I fell down and then she kicked me. A hundred times."

Brock saw Reba walk in and told Henry to go back outside and play. The seven-year-old stuck his tongue out at Reba on his way out and and Reba found it difficult not to do the same.

"Did you beat him with a stick?" Brock said, frowning.

Reba took Esme from Brock. "All I did was smack him on the cheek. It didn't even hurt." She sat down on the couch and patted Esme's back, thankful she had calmed down quite a bit.

"Reba, you know how I feel about spanking."

"And you know how I feel about your son's attitude. And I didn't spank him. I simply put him in his place."

"I don't want you hitting him."

"Well, timeout didn't work, as I learned the other day. What do you want me to do when he misbehaves?"

"Timeout will work if you stick with it. If he gets up, sit him back down."

"I don't have time to do that. He screams and yells and that upsets Esme. Then I have to go tend to her."

"Well, then I guess I'll talk to him." He headed outside. "Just what I wanted to come home to: screaming kids, no dinner, and a headache."

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><p>That night, everyone went to bed early, including Henry.<p>

After Reba got Esme to fall asleep by softly singing to her, Reba settled into bed with Brock. He was facing the wall and appeared to be asleep by his deep, rhythmic breathing and quiet manner. She sighed quietly and scooted closer to him, laying her arm over his side and grabbing his hand. After a moment, he woke up and held onto her hand as well. A moment later, she felt him raise her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

Reba put her forehead to his back and inhaled his scent before letting her eyes flutter closed, drifting off to sleep, satisfied with their silent apologies.

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><p><em><strong>First update for the new story! I hope you guys liked it! Please, please review. ((:<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

For the past few days, Cheyenne had been keeping a close eye on Van. He was still working late and hardly made time for the family, so she thought she'd do a little investigating. After dropping Elizabeth off at school and Kasey at a daycare-type program, she drove to Van's office.

She was greeted warmly by the receptionist as she headed to Van's personal office down the hall.

Van was sitting at his desk, looking over some papers when she walked in. She closed the door, causing him to look up.

"Cheyenne."

"Hey."

He began shoving papers into folders and into drawers, some into a trash can. It was as if he was hiding them.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to sound casual as he logged onto his computer.

"Oh, I was just out for a little drive and I thought I'd pop in. Are you busy?"

"Just a little." He nodded towards his computer. "New listings."

She nodding, twisting her purse strap around her wrist then letting go. "I understand."

"Thanks."

There was a knock at the door. Cheyenne turned around to see a woman of about twenty or so walk in. She wore her brown hair pinned up in a French twist, her bright red lipstick standing out in contrast. She had green eyes and high cheekbones making her look like the leader of the Bitch Clique in Cheyenne's senior class.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She said in a slightly snobby, light, airy voice. "I didn't know you had a visitor." She waved a folder around. "I was just coming in to show you a list of the current stock quotes."

Van waved her in and stood. "Rose," He said, gesturing towards Cheyenne. "This is my wife, Cheyenne."

The woman, now identified as Rose, held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you." She forced a smile as they shook hands. "I think we spoke on the phone the other night?"

"Yes," Cheyenne said as she pulled her hand away, putting it in her pocket. "We did."

"Yeah. I would have recognized you anywhere from the pictures Van has of you and the kids on his desk. Kasey and Elizabeth are absolutely adorable."

Cheyenne didn't care for Van's obviously attractive new assistant knowing her kids' names, but she smiled politely.

"Thank you. We're blessed to have them."

Rose nodded, another forced smile gracing her lips. "Well, I'll leave you two alone." She placed the folder she had been holding on Van's desk and left.

Cheyenne turned to her husband. "Well, she's a looker, isn't she?"

Van shrugged. "Ah, you know. Eh."

"No, you know I'm just sayin'. She ain't hard to look at. Especially at night when you're working, buzzed on Folgers and needing a cold shower."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know. You've just been working a lot with your hot, new assistant."

"And?"

She eyed him, unable to accuse him of the very thing that broke her parents up. She refused to think about it as she shook her head.

"Never mind. I guess I'll get going, then."

"Okay. Drive safe. I'll be home at around eight."

"Alright. Eight it is." She backed up to the door. "Love you."

He picked up the folder that Rose had left. "Love you, too." He smiled, but Cheyenne didn't know if the smile was meant for her or the stock quotes.

She left without another word.

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><p>Reba hadn't wanted to take Henry grocery shopping with her. Who would? But Brock was "sick and tired of that damn take-out food," so she decided she'd better cook him something that they hadn't had in a while.<p>

Reba had Esme in her carrier in the basket where Henry would sit if he were younger. She made it clear that Henry was not to wander off. He should treat this shopping trip as if his mother was there.

In the first twenty minutes the three were at the grocery store, Henry acted like a normal human being. He never let go of the basket, never asked for anything. And he was actually quiet. Reba wondered if he was trying to think up something horrible to do.

"Henry," She finally asked. "What kind of cereal do you want for breakfast?"

She figured she would play the good cop and give him a chance.

"Froot Loops." He pointed at the red box that was right at eye level to him. "It has a toy inside."

Reba never let her kids eat those kinds cereals for breakfast when they were younger. She might as well pour them a bowl of sugar.

"How about we get this instead." She held up a familiar looking purple box Henry had seen his mom eat from.

"I don't like raisins," He promptly told her, picking up the box of Froot Loops. "I like these."

Reba sighed. "How about Cheerios, then? You like those."

"I want Froot Loops." He shook the box he was holding. "There's a toy inside."

Reba took the box from him, turning it around. "Henry, the toy is a wind-up car. I can buy you one for a dollar without having to spend three more for the cereal."

"It's not the same!"

"Plus, it's not very healthy."

"Neither is chocolate."

"Which is why we don't let you have it."

"You eat it all the time! I saw you!"

"I'm the grown-up."

"It's not fair!"

"Life so seldom is. We're going to get Cheerios for breakfast. Everybody likes those."

"I don't!" He stomped his foot.

"Henry, don't you dare throw a temper tantrum in this store, do you hear me?"

He stopped, his frown disappearing. A smile took its place as he cheerfully said, "Okay."

Reba stared at him. He sure was an odd little duck.

"Okay," She said. "Let's go get something for dinner. Come on."

She turned the cart around and Henry followed along beside her. Or so she thought. She got all the way over to the frozen foods section of the grocery store before she noticed that the little boy wasn't with her. She began to panic and retraced her steps as fast as she could.

She looked down every aisle she had gone by or gone down. Finally, she realized where he was. The cereal aisle.

Rolling her eyes, she maneuvered the cart to aisle fifteen. There, she saw Henry standing beside a box of open Froot Loops, shoving the cereal into his pockets.

"Henry Charles Jesus Hart. What are you doing?"

He turned around, gasping.

"Why didn't you follow me?"

He shrugged and looked at the ground.

"This is stealing, Henry. You know not to take things that aren't yours."

"You wouldn't let me have it!"

"That doesn't give you a right to just take it!"

Henry picked up the box and took off running down the aisle, screaming, "I want it and you can't stop me!"

Reba's cheeks turned bright red as a few other customers in the store stared at the scene before them. Reba tried to make it look like she was in control of things, but no one knew better than her and Henry that she was most certainly not.

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><p>Reba awoke the next morning to the alarm clock going off. The beeping sound, so dreaded by the sleeper, echoing off the dark walls. She shoved Brock awake so that he could turn it off before it woke Esme.<p>

He reached over and hit the snooze button a few times before pulling the blanket over his head. Reba heard Esme stir in her bassinet and prayed she stayed asleep.

It wasn't yet light out, but Reba could hear the light rain hitting the roof outside. Soon, she would know the harsh light of the kitchen downstairs. But for right now, she was warm and in her bed. She could feel Brock's hot skin from where her face lay on his shoulder.

"We should get up," She said in a half groan, half whisper.

"It's still dark out," He said in the same tone, but sat up and rubbed his eyes anyway before stumbling to he bathroom and switching on the light. Reba squinted as she stood and followed him.

His upper body was in the shower, turning it on. She lovingly touched his back as she passed to brush her teeth. As she finished, Brock came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. He hadn't touched her like that since Esme was born. It was certainly welcome.

"Are you still upset with me?" He asked quietly.

She placed her toothbrush in the holder by the sink.

"I was never upset with _you_." She placed her hands over his.

"You seemed pretty upset yesterday."

"I was. Just not at you."

Brock ran his hands up her body. "Then who were you upset with?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It would just start a fight."

Brock gently twirled her around to face him. "Was it Henry?"

Reba looked at him, biting her lip and nodding slowly.

Brock touched her neck where he had kissed her. "What did he do? You can tell me. I won't get mad."

She sighed. "He made a big deal out of me not buying him Froot Loops yesterday. Then when I went to get frozen strawberries for the pie for Jake's bake sale, I noticed he wasn't with me."

"Where was he?"

"In the cereal aisle. With a box of opened Froot Loops, stuffing them in his pockets. I told him that he was stealing, but he didn't seem to care. He ran off and I had to chase him."

"I'll talk to him-"

"No, Brock. It needs to be more than talk. Punish him."

"Okay. I'll handle it." He kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I gotta get in the shower or I'm gonna be late."

She nodded and he began to undress.

"Hey, don't forget about that insurance physical at six."

"Alright." She stepped out of the bathroom to let him shower.

The reason he scheduled an insurance physical made sense to Reba. Brock felt that since Esme was so young and he wasn't, they needed to change their policy to cover her. That meant new physicals.

So that day, Reba ran on the treadmill in the garage. She wanted to at least feel good about herself, even if she didn't look good.

That evening, they both went in for their physicals and were told that the results would be mailed out within the week.

At bedtime, the first thing that Reba asked Brock when they got under the covers was if he had talked to Henry.

"Not yet."

"Brock! I asked you to this morning and you said you would."

"I know. I'm sorry. I was busy with work stuff when I got home. Then we had the physicals. It slipped my mind."

"Do I have to hover over you to make sure you do it?"

"No. I'll do it, okay? Give me a break, Reba. I have a headache. Let's just go to bed. I'll talk to Henry tomorrow."

"Fine. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

They both turned away from each other and had trouble sleeping the rest of the night.

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><p><em><strong>Thank you so much for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming! (:<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

Cheyenne was having a hard time breaking up a fight between Kasey and Elizabeth. Elizabeth was late for school and Van had just left for work. The two were fighting over a Barbie. Kasey had it first, but it was Elizabeth's toy and Cheyenne was torn between who to give it to.

"You know what," She finally said. "Neither of you get it. It's mine now."

"Mom!" Elizabeth yelled, standing to her feet from her spot on the carpet.

"No. Finish getting ready. We're late."

The little girl stomped off to get her backpack while Cheyenne grabbed her keys off the table. That's when she noticed Van had forgotten his phone. She sighed and picked it up, waking it using the button on the top. As she did, she noticed there was a new text message.

She knew she shouldn't open it. It was an invasion of privacy and she should trust him.

_And I would had he not been working late with that new assistant of his_, she thought.

So she opened it and began reading.

**Van, it's a go. Come by at seven and we'll get things going.**

** - RV**

Cheyenne angrily shoved the phone into her pocket, not knowing what she would do with the information she had just received.

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><p>It was ten o'clock and Esme was sleeping, Henry was outside playing basketball, and Reba was catching up on three days worth of housework. She had just finished vacuuming when the telephone rang.<p>

"Hello?"

"This is Dr. McElroy. I'm calling for Brock Hart."

Reba recognized the name as the doctor who did their physicals.

"He's not here right now," She told him. "I can give you his work number. I'm his wife."

"Oh, yes. Reba. I was calling regarding you and your husband's physical results."

"Oh. I thought those were going to be mailed out this week."

"They were. But I think I'd like to speak with you in person. How soon can you both come into my office?"

"I'd have to talk with Brock. Is there something wrong?"

"I'd rather not disclose that information over the phone. You really should be together."

"Uh, okay. Make it five-thirty, then. How's that?"

"That's fine. Thank you."

He hung up and Reba fell back onto the couch, puzzled. What on Earth could he possibly want to tell them?

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><p>"Well, what did the man say, Reba?" Brock asked as they walked into Dr. McElroy's office. Brock was visibly tired as he carried Esme in her carrier. His eyes seemed to lack life.<p>

"Just that he wanted to talk to us together."

"That's all?"

Reba nodded, thankful that they had left Henry with Cheyenne. She had felt bad about doing it, but Cheyenne assured her that it was alright since Van was home. Reba just didn't want Henry to be bouncing off the walls at the office.

When they got inside, they were directed to the doctor's personal office where they sat in matching chairs in front of an enormous, mahogany desk.

The doctor was an older man with light brown hair and a graying mustache. He wore a suit and and fancy smelling cologne.

"Thank you for coming in," He told the two as he sat down.

"You sounded urgent on the phone," Reba told him, placing her hands in her lap.

"Yes." He leaned forward. "It is. And there's no easy way to convey this to anyone."

"Is something wrong? Did something come back on the physicals?"

Dr. McElroy nodded and Reba's world seemed to slowly stop turning. There was something terribly, terribly wrong. She could feel it in her bones.

"Reba," Dr. McElroy began. "You're fine. Your results came back normal."

"So, it's me?" Brock asked.

"You recall the CT Scan that you had. You were complaining of headaches you had never had before?"

Brock nodded. "Yeah. They just came out of the blue, it seemed like."

"There's a cause for those headaches, and I hate to be the one to tell you." He took a breath. "Brock, you have a tumor located in the right cerebral hemisphere of your brain. It's inoperable given the location, but I advise you to see an Oncologist."

Reba sat stone still, not knowing how to react. She was sure Brock didn't know, either. After a moment, tears began to stream down her face. Brock was her everything. If she lost him again, she didn't know what she'd do.

"I'm going to refer you to the best oncologist I know," Dr. McElroy told them. "He's a good man. Been in the business for three decades."

Reba turned to Brock and looked at him through her tears. He was hunched over, his elbows on his knees, his head down. Reba leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. He moved to do the same and they hugged each other right there in the doctor's office.

"It's gonna be okay," She told him, placing her hand on the back of his head, trying to will the tumor away. "It's gonna be okay."

Reba could feel Brock's shoulders heaving up and down and she knew that he, too was crying. He never cried. He was always the big, strong man who took care of everyone and never asked for anything. He could do anything, no problem. Never an obstacle too big.

But here he was. Fifty years old, still as strong as ever in Reba's eyes, crying into his wife's arms. She knew he was afraid. She was too. She thought about all the things they had overcome and wondered why God kept throwing things at them. What lesson did they have left to learn before they could finally live a life of complete peace?

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><p><strong><em>I wonder if any of you picked up on the several times I made Brock say he had a headache. Did y'all see this coming? Review and let me know and if you liked the chapter. I love reading everybody's thoughts. ((: <em>  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

A few months went by and Brock's doctor started him on chemo treatments. They had to live on savings for a while since Brock took a leave of absence from work, referring all his patients to one of his good dentist buddies. Reba still had to stay home to care for four-month-old Esme.

One evening, Reba was preparing dinner in the kitchen when the phone rang.

"Hello?" Reba answered.

"Hey, Mom."

"Kyra! Honey, how are you? We haven't heard from you in a while."

"I know. I'm sorry. I've been on the road."

"Really? Where are ya?"

"In New Jersey."

"Wow. Take some pictures for me."

"I will. I got Celine Dion's autograph for you, by the way. It's in the mail."

"How did you meet her?"

"She was doing a show in Madison Square Garden and me and the band were there. She actually came up to us and said she loved our music."

"Wow. That's really great, Kyra. Really great. That doesn't happen to everyone."

"I know, Mom. Believe me, we're taking it all in. How's Dad?"

"He's doing good."

"Has he started chemo yet?"

"Yep. Which is why your grandmother is coming in. I'm preparing the poisoned soup as we speak."

"Mom, be nice. She's there for Dad. If she gets crazy, just cut her some slack."

"I know. I'll try."

"Okay. Well, I gotta get on to sound-check. Just wanted to call and say hey real quick. I'll call you next week, alright?"

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you, too. Tell Dad the same."

"I will. Have fun."

"Bye, Mom."

They hung up just as Brock entered the room.

"Oh, that was Kyra," Reba said. "You just missed her."

"Is she gonna call back?" Brock asked. "Where is she?"

"New Jersey. And she said she'd call back next week."

"New Jersey. Man, that girl is really something."

"I'm gettin' to be real proud of her."

Brock smiled. "You know who else is really something?"

"Who?"

"Her mom."

Reba rolled her eyes with a chuckle and shook her head. "Well, you're really something, too."

Brock came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her collarbone.

"Brock, I'm busy..."

"You don't need to be busy cooking in the kitchen when you can be busy cooking in the bedroom."

Reba squared her jaw and shook her head. "Nope. I'm trying to fix dinner. Don't you want to eat?"

"Not what you're cooking."

Reba glanced behind her. "Brock!"

"What?"

"Since when did you become so crude?"

"You like it. Know what you'd like even better?"

"I'm not sure if I want to know."

"I'm pretty sure you'd like it if I bent you over this counter and really f-"

"Dad! I'm in here!"

The two turned around to see Jake with a hand held up, a disgusted look on his face.

"Jake, were you eavesdropping?" Reba asked with a hint of a laugh in her voice as she turned back to the stove. She knew the kids hated it when her and Brock showed PDA.

"Yeah," Jake said. "Because you know I just love hearing how Dad wants to bend you over the counter. Thanks for the mental images, by the way."

"Put a bell around your neck to let us know you're around," Brock simply said, snacking on the vegetables Reba had cut up. "Simple as that."

Reba turned around and smacked Brock's hand away from her freshly cut carrots. "Whatcha need, Jake?"

"Money."

Brock rolled his eyes and took out his wallet. "Of course you do. How much?"

"Thirty."

"Here's forty. Don't spend it all in one place."

Jake took the two twenties, stuffing them in his pocket. "That was kind of the point, but thanks, Dad." He opened the backdoor.

"Be home by eleven," Reba told him as he slammed the door.

He left and all was quiet. After a moment, Reba said, "Do you hear that?"

"What?"

"Exactly. Silence." She glanced around the room before settling her eyes on Brock. "It's just me and you, you and I, just the two of us. And Esme sleeping upstairs, of course, but we're all alone down here. After nearly thirty years."

Brock wrapped her up in a hug. "How many times has this happened?"

"Maybe ten." She hugged him back, thankful that Cheyenne had arranged a sleepover for Henry and Elizabeth. "I'm sure thankful for these times," She said into his chest.

"So am I. So am I."

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><p>Later, when dinner was done and the two sat at the table eating, the subject matter turn to Brock's mother and her upcoming visit.<p>

"Does she have to stay here, though?" Reba asked, eyes on her plate.

"Reba, you know she does." Brock told her, stifling a chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You still have those big puppy dog eyes you break out when you want something. It cracks me up."

She rolled her eyes, twirling her pasta around her fork. "They were meant to make you feel guilty. Brock, can we please put her up in a nice hotel? She won't care. In fact, she'd probably prefer it."

"The whole point of her coming is to visit. She wants to see Jake and meet Esme and have a nice time with her family. How is she gonna do that in a hotel room?" He looked down at his plate. "'Cause you know, we don't know how much longer I'm going to be around."

Reba's eyes shot up at him. His words greatly alarmed her. "Brock! Don't say things like that! You are gonna be as good as new when these treatments are over. That tumor _is_ going to go away."

He looked up at her with sad eyes, sitting kind of hunched over. "I don't have a very good feeling about this. That's why I wanted to change our insurance policy. In case something like this happened. And it did. I've felt this way since Esme was born."

"Why didn't you tell me about it, then? Brock, nothing is going to happen." She scooted into the seat next to him, grabbing his chin and turning his head to look at her. "You are going to be fine. Don't speak things on yourself, Brock. Think positively. I am. We all are."

"Reba, if I think positively, that means if something was to happen, I wouldn't be ready because the thought of something going wrong never crossed my mind. I have to think negatively for your sake and for Esme's sake and for Jake's sake. I don't want you guys struggling to make it if I don't."

"Brock, have you never heard the saying 'hope for the best, but plan for the worst?' You can still think positively and plan for the negative."

"You just don't understand the burden a man feels when his family is in danger."

"Then talk to me about it, Brock. Tell me how you feel. You can't keep things like this in for months at a time. This is why we got a divorce. We didn't have very good communication with each other."

"You know, I've been thinking about that."

"Thinking about what?"

"Thought about us getting married again. I shouldn't have asked you to. Now look what you have to deal with. Here in a few months, I'm gonna be helpless."

"Brock, I married you again because I love you. So much. I want to take care of you. I'm your wife and it's within me to want to take care of you."

"No. I need to be taking care of _you_. And I've tried the best way I know how, but since this...thing, I can't and it's not fair to you."

Reba sat back in her chair. "So, what are you saying? Do you want a divorce? Are you just going to stop loving me today? All of a sudden?"

"No. I will love you until the day I die. I just want what's best for you. Whatever you want, whatever that may be. Divorce or otherwise."

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><p><em><strong>Review? (:<strong>_


	5. Chapter 5

The next day was Monday. The day Brock's mother was coming in, and Reba chose to spend the day out of the house. When she got back after dark, Liz was there.

"There she is," Brock said as Reba came through the front door.

"Hey, Liz," Reba greeted hastily. "Can't talk now. Milk's spoiling." She rushed to the kitchen with the few grocery bags she carried, Brock following.

"You were gone for a while," Brock said as she began to put the groceries away.

"Did you tell her?" Reba asked, ignoring his comment.

Brock sighed. "Yes, I told her."

"And?"

"She cried."

"Like I did?" She jerked the refrigerator door open to unload milk, butter, and apples from her arms. "Did she cry like I did? Does she care that much?" She slammed the door shut.

"Reba, stop it."

"Well, I'm sorry, Brock. I guess I'm just a little upset to find out my husband wants a divorce. For the second time."

"I didn't say that I wanted a divorce. I said I wanted what you wanted."

"And you think I want a divorce?" She stopped putting groceries away and stared at him, hands braced on the counter. "Is that what you really think I want?"

"I don't know what you want! You won't tell me!"

"I want you!"

Brock's frown faded. His face softened as he sighed.

"I want you, Brock," She continued. "Just like I told you a year and a half ago. You're all that I want. There's nothing else I want when you're around. When you talk to me, your voice is all I hear. When we make love, you're all I feel." She held her hands to her heart. "You're my life, Brock. You're my everything. I love you."

His eyes darted around the room for a moment before focusing on her. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

She walked around the counter. "Brock, I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry about what's going to happen. I will take care of everything."

He sighed before nodding. "Okay. Okay. I won't worry."

She reached out and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and turned his head to where his nose rested in her hair. He breathed in deeply and squeezed, making her breath catch. He released the pressure ever so slightly and kissed the side of her head, wondering what would happen should his condition get worse.

* * *

><p>After dinner, the family gathered in the living room to visit with one another.<p>

"She looks just like Brock," Liz said as she held Esme.

"I know," Reba said, smiling. "I think her hair's lightened up a bit since she was born." She pointed to a picture of Esme at the hospital from the photo album that was lying in her lap. "She had darker hair here, but now-" She stroked the baby's head carefully. "-it's more blonde."

"She seems very mellow," Liz observed.

"She is," Brock responded. "Very. Doesn't require constant attention. She's still sleeping a lot."

"How does Henry like her?"

"Uh, he likes her okay, I guess," Reba said, placing the photo album on the coffee table. "Never showed that much interest in her."

"Say, where is he? Upstairs?"

"No. He spent the weekend with Van and Cheyenne so him and Elizabeth could play together."

"That's nice. So, whatever happened to that guy who kidnapped him?"

"From what I've heard," Brock said. "Him and Barbra Jean are still married and going to counseling."

Liz shook her head. "You'd think she'd want to talk to her son."

Brock shrugged. "I don't know. She's changed a lot in the last two years."

Liz looked at Reba, but still speaking to Brock. "So have you."

* * *

><p>Van and Cheyenne were loading up the kids to take Henry back home. Cheyenne was just strapping Kasey in his cars-seat when Van's phone rang. He casually stepped away from the car to answer it. He never did that, and it made Cheyenne nervous. She strained to hear the conversation. Something about the back of a car, the next day at work and letting someone named James know about the change of plans. Cheyenne wondered if he was messing around with that assistant of his. The back seat of a car was a dead giveaway. But who was James and what plans needed to be changed?<p>

She thought about all these things as she got into the car. She would have to confront him. Even if everything turned out to be okay, she didn't want to wonder. She had to know.

* * *

><p>That night, after Van and Cheyenne had left, everyone turned in early. Reba sat up in bed, leaning against the head-board, thinking about Liz's comment about Brock changing earlier.<p>

_He hasn't changed_, she thought as Brock emerged from the bathroom, fresh from a shower. _He's just the same old Brock he always was. If he has changed, it's for the better_.

"Man," Brock said, crawling into bed. "It's been a long day." He laid down, placing his head on Reba's belly. She put her hand on his head and ran her fingers through his hair.

"It has," She agreed. "Hey, do you know why your mother was talking about you changing earlier?"

He tilted his head back and looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

She played with his hair for a second. "Earlier when you said Barbra Jean changed in the last two years and your mom looked up at me and, still talking to you, said, 'so have you.'"

"I wasn't paying attention." He straightened his head back up.

Reba sighed. "Well, she meant something by it. And I wanna know what."

Brock sat up, making her hand fall to her lap. "Just let it go. He got under the covers. "It's not a big deal."

"Yes, it is!" She turned to him. "I don't take kindly to people saying things like that."

Brock rolled over. "People? She's my mother."

"Well, I'm your wife." She sat back. "And I have a strange feeling your _mother_ doesn't understand that."

Brock draped his arm around her middle and closed his eyes. "She does. Trust me."

Reba put her hand on his arm. "I don't think she does. I mean, five years ago, she was telling me we were meant to be together and now, it seems like she's changed her mind."

Brock shook his head. "She likes you. I can't believe you're even worrying about that. After twenty-seven years."

"She just had this weird look in her eye when she talked to me. I heard it in her voice."

"Reba, don't worry about it. Now relax and lay down. I know you're tired."

"I am, but she's just down the hall. In the same house. I'm uncomfortable in my own home."

"She's not going to come and kill you in the middle of the night. I promise." He ran a hand over her belly. "Now, please. Lay down and get some sleep."

She sighed and switched off the lamp, lying down and scooting close to Brock. She gave him a kiss and said, "I love you. Thanks for what you said."

"It's my job." He kissed her back. "And I love you, too."

She closed her eyes, turning over and feeling Brock slip his arm around her middle. She kept an ear out for Esme who was in her crib down the hall, and another ear out for Brock's mother.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Review? Please and thank you!<em>**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Things written in italics are flashbacks unless otherwise noted.**

When Reba woke up the next morning, she was alone in the bed. Brock's side of the bed was cold and she guessed he had been up for quite some time. It was eight o'clock and the sun was shining brightly as she looked at Brock's pillow, running her hand across it before rolling over onto it. She could smell his cologne. She closed her eyes, remembering.

* * *

><p><em>Brock would be home from work soon and Reba was so excited to have a nice, quiet dinner with him since they found out she was pregnant. She had taken five pregnancy tests the other day just to be sure and was elated when they all came back positive. Brock was thrilled as well, but Reba thought she was the most excited. She couldn't stop touching her belly. It was like a second nature. She would move her hands to pick up the remote or something then they'd go right back to her baby's home for the next nine months. <em>

_She sat on the couch, waiting for Brock to arrive and watching a tape Brock had made back in 1993 when she was pregnant with Jake. The day they had both realized the baby was growing and she was getting bigger, Brock broke out the camcorder and filmed a little conversation._

_The tape showed Brock filming himself._

_"It's September eighth, nineteen ninety-three," He said to the camera. "And another baby is on the way." He smiled and turned the camera to the couch where Reba was sitting. "Here's Mommy and she is... How far along are you?" _

_"Eighteen weeks. Almost five months." _

_"Four more to go. And it is a boy this time." He filmed himself again. "Finally a boy after two girls." He filmed Reba. "Are you happy."_

_"Very. And we've decided on a name."_

_"I thought we were deciding between Jake and Mitchell."_

_"I just decided like, two seconds ago that it would be Jake Mitchell."_

_"Oh. Okay. It has a nice ring to it. Jake Mitchell Hart. Move your hands so I can film him."_

_She moved and Brock zoomed in on her belly. "There he is. Our little boy." Just then, it looked like something ran across her stomach. "Whoa!" He tilted the camera up. "Was that him?"_

_"Yes. He's just kicking me."_

_That's when the real Brock came in the door. "Hey, Red."_

_Reba paused the movie and stood from the couch. "Did you have a good day?" She noticed he was holding something behind his back._

_"I did. You?"_

_"I had a wonderful day."_

_"Good. What's for dinner?"_

_"Hold on there, Slick," She said as Brock tried to walk into the kitchen. She reached behind his back and pulled a wine bottle from his hands. "What's this?"_

_"Chablis."_

_"I can't drink this."_

_"I know."_

_"Were you going to drink it in secret?"_

_Brock rolled his eyes and took the wine from her. "No, I was not going to drink it in secret. We're going to share it after you have the baby. As a celebratory thing."_

_"Oh."_

_"Yeah, oh." He set the wine down and pulled her to him by her hips. "Promise me you won't sneak it."_

_"I'm not going to sneak it. I don't drink when I'm pregnant. You know that."_

_"I also know how you like your liquor."_

_"Wine isn't liquor."_

_"You'd take it sooner than leave it. This is going to be the healthiest kid to ever come into the world. No sweets, no alcohol, no smoking."_

_"I don't smoke."_

_"And you're not going to start."_

_She rolled her eyes, but smiled. He always knew how to keep her laughing._

* * *

><p>Reba walked downstairs a few minutes later to find Brock and Liz in the kitchen, talking.<p>

"And she's just burnt out," Brock was saying over a cup of coffee. "Maybe even a little paranoid about the tumor." He looked up to see her standing in the doorway. "Oh, hey, Baby. Good morning. Sleep good?"

"I hope we didn't wake you," Liz said. She was holding Esme in her lap.

"You didn't wake me up," Reba told her. "And I slept fine, thank you." She leaned over Liz's shoulder to kiss Esme's forehead. "Good morning, love." She picked the baby up and grinned when her face lit up.

"Well," Brock said, checking his watch. "I better get going."

"Where are you headed?" Reba asked him.

"Golf with a few buddies. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll call you if something doesn't feel right. I promise." He drank the last of his coffee as Reba walked up to him.

"See you later," He said, going in for what he intended to be a small peck on the lips. However, Reba pulled him to her by his collar and placed her lips over his, opening her mouth immediately, feeling him do the same. Their interaction lasted mere seconds, but Reba could imagine Liz's surprised face, her embarrassed face.

Reba smiled as they pulled away. "Mmm...hurry home."

Brock smirked and looked shyly to his mother before saying goodbye once more, walking to the backdoor. Reba gave his butt a good smack and laughed when he jumped, as if he wasn't expecting it.

She shut the door and turned to Liz, adjusting Esme on her hip.

"So, would you like pancakes for breakfast?"

"You didn't have to do that," Liz said, sitting back in her chair.

"Do what?" Reba asked as she set out the boxed pancake mix. "Kiss my husband in my own home?"

"I know what you're thinking."

"I doubt that."

"Really. I do. You're thinking that I think Brock made a mistake by going back to you."

Reba slammed the wooden spoon she was fixing to use on the counter. She felt Esme flinch. "He didn't come _back_ to me. We found each other again. We love each other. We never stopped."

Liz sighed. "I'm just worried about the tumor. This chemo he's going through is going to get worse. He'll have his good days like today, then he'll have his bad days. And you'll be stuck taking care of the kids."

"Just Esme. Jake's gone with friends most of the time and hopefully when Brock's chemo gets the best of him, Henry will be gone."

"What do you have against that angelic child? He's my grandson, you know."

"I am aware of your relationship to Brock's accidental offspring, but just because he's my stepson, doesn't mean that I have to like him."

"You used to like him."

"He used to obey."

Liz shook her head. "You have to be patient with him. He's a child. He doesn't understand what he's doing."

"He's seven-years-old!"

"Well...you should have seen Brock at that age. Stubborn as an old mule. And mean, too. If looks could kill, half of the family would be dead."

Reba put her hand on her hip. "So you're saying that Henry is just like Brock?"

"I'm saying he's a little boy. He's gonna cause trouble. You have a son. You know what I'm talking about."

"Jake was never like Henry. I raised him better than that."

Just then, Jake burst through the door.

"Mom, guess what! Me and Kendall just set off fireworks down at the park and the grass caught on fire!"

Reba turned to Liz, who grinned and said, "What'd I tell ya?"

* * *

><p>Brock came home from golfing that afternoon with a strange attitude.<p>

"Alright, Brock," Reba said when they were alone in the kitchen. "You've been acting odd since you got home. What's going on?"

"It's Barbra Jean," He said. "She called me today."

"What did she say?"

"She was telling me all about her marriage counseling with Darryl and how it's going well and everything."

"Okay..."

"But she says she needs more time. We're gonna keep Henry for a bit longer."

"Brock!"

"Don't." He held up a hand. "Please don't."

Reba shook her head and slammed the dishwasher she was loading closed. "This is ridiculous. You know that, right? She hardly knows that guy and yet, she picks him over her son?"

"I guess so. She must love him, alright?"

"He's a jerk. And a whole lot of other choice words I won't say."

"Are you talking about Darryl?"

The two adults looked up to see Henry standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Henry," Reba said. "Could you please go back into the living room with Grammy Liz? Me and your dad are talking."

"No."

"Henry," Brock said, his voice laced with authority. "Do what Reba says."

"I'm sick of her telling me what to do!" He hollered.

"You don't really have a choice," Reba told him, walking around the counter. "You're the child and I'm the adult."

"So?"

"Henry," Brock warned. "Change your tone."

"Why? She's not my mom."

"She's your step-mom and you have to do what she says."

"No way!"

"Henry," Reba said, pushing past Brock and walking to Henry. "You are getting on my very last nerve."

"Sucks for you."

With that, he made a fist and swung it towards her stomach. She gasped and doubled over.

"Henry!" Brock yelled and grabbed him by the shoulders. "What has gotten into you?" He sat him down in a chair as Reba fell into one.

"Are you okay?" Brock asked, gently touching her knee as she stayed doubled over.

"I'm gonna kill him," She growled. "I can barely breathe."

"In through your nose, out through your mouth." He turned to Henry from where he knelt on the floor between the two. "Why did you do that?"

"Because she was bothering me," Henry responded.

"That's not a very good reason."

He shrugged as Reba slowly sat up, trying to breathe slowly. "If you ever," She gasped. "Do that again, I'll tan your hide."

"She threatened me!" Henry yelled. "You heard her!"

"Well, Henry, you just sucker-punched her in the stomach."

"She deserved it."

"You know what, Henry?" Reba said. "This is my house and I let you come here to live because you were kidnapped by your insane step-dad. Now, you've treated me like dirt the whole time you've been here and frankly, I'd like to know why. I've been nothing but nice to you ever since you came into this world and Lord knows, I didn't have to."

You married my dad!" He yelled, folding his arms.

Reba was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You stole him from my mom!"

"Now, you wait just a dadblame minute-"

"Reba..." Brock said, his head down.

"No, Brock. He needs to know."

"No, he doesn't."

"It's not fair!" Reba said, her voice raising. "He's accusing me of what his mother did."

"Reba. Stop."

"You need to tell him the truth."

"Reba!"

She looked at him. He had never yelled at her like that.

"I told you to stop."

"But I-"

"No. Please just go. I'm going to talk to him alone."

She stood up and left without another word.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thanks for all the reviews, you guys! Just a few more chapters to go!<em>**


	7. Chapter 7

Cheyenne had been thinking of Van's new assistant a lot. It was obvious she had a crush on Van by the way she looked at him, the way she sent him text messages, and the way she spoke to him on the phone. Cheyenne heard and saw it all and she was so ashamed that Van thought she was stupid. Apparently he thought she would be oblivious to it all.

She watched Van sit on the linoleum floor in the kitchen, trying to fix the sliding glass door and had a sudden urge to start asking questions. Questions, that if answered correctly, would give away secrets.

"Do you have to work late tomorrow?" She asked, nudging a red screwdriver with the toe of her sequined ballet flats.

"Uh...tomorrow? Yeah."

"Oh. Okay. Do you want to go out for pizza tonight?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay. Pizza Hut alright?"

"Yeah."

"Are you having an affair?"

"Yeah."

Cheyenne took a step back. "What?"

Van shot to his feet. "No, no_._ I did not mean to say that." He held his hands up.

"You're having an affair?"

"No! I'm not! I swear!"

"But you just said-"

"I only said that because the answers to all your other questions were the same. I wasn't even really listening."

"Well, what about working late and Rose calling and texting you all the time?"

"She's my assistant. I'm going to get calls from her."

"But when you're home, you're at home, not at work. She doesn't need to call. Tell her not to."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"She might quit. I can't let that happen. She's a hard worker."

"Couldn't you get a guy to be your assistant?"

"What's the matter, Cheyenne? Do you not trust me?"

She sighed and sat down at the table. "I just remember Mom and Dad's divorce." She picked at the place-mat's edge. "Dad worked late all the time and got phone calls from his assistant. Who turned out to be Barbra Jean, his mistress."

Van knelt in front of her. "But your mom and dad are back together now."

"But it caused a lot of hurt in the beginning. And what are you saying, Van? That if you had an affair and left me and the other woman didn't work out, you'd come crawling back to me as your second choice?"

"No. Because I'm never going to leave."

Cheyenne looked into his eyes. "I heard my dad say that to my mom every night. Words mean very little, Van. Actions speak louder."

* * *

><p>Reba was in her bedroom, folding towels later that evening when Brock came in with a sullen look on his face. He stopped in the doorway when he saw her standing by the bed, silently doing laundry.<p>

"Reba, I'm sorry."

She didn't respond. She just kept folding the towels.

"Reba?" He walked to her. "Did you hear me? I said I was sorry." He put his hands on her shoulders, but she just shrugged him away.

He dropped his hands to his side. "What do you want me to say here, Reba?"

She turned around. "Nothing. I don't want you to say a single thing." She began to fold again.

Brock sighed and sat down on the bed. "Well, I need to say _something_."

When she didn't respond, he continued.

"When I found out Barbra Jean was pregnant with Henry, I was angry. At myself. I didn't know what to do. But as time went on, the anger went with it and I became determined to give this baby the perfect life. It was a way for me to start over. I had a new wife, a new son, everything was perfect. At least that's what I tried to portray. I was miserable, Reba. I was never happy with her. I always thought about you, and I guess that's what caused a lot of our arguments. We fought about you so many times. Then she and I divorced. Everything I wanted for Henry just got torn to shreds. I had wanted him to be the kid in school who could say, 'My mommy and daddy aren't divorced. They love each other.' I wanted that for him because Cheyenne and Kyra and Jake couldn't say that. I guess it was a selfish thing to want, but that's the way I thought. I was so selfish. You know I always have been.

"But I'm trying to do things right this time around. You know I love you. I'm trying to figure out why I have such a hard time in this life. Why I can't seem to ever get it right. But I'm trying.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is, I'm ashamed of how Henry got here, but I'm not ashamed of him. I want him to look up at me and know that without a doubt I won't ever leave him. I want that for Esme, too. They're my babies and I don't want them to grow up. And I feel like if I tell them what really happened between you and me, they will. I know Henry has been picking on you and he told me why. Darryl told him to. He told Henry to torture you so that when you told me about it, I wouldn't believe you and it would break our marriage up. Darryl knows how much I love you. He thought that if I left you again, he could get back at me for leaving Barbra Jean. It was all part of his twisted plan to get back at me. He was trying to hurt me, not you. And in a way, I'm glad Barbra Jean found someone who loves her that much to go to such great lengths to get back at the guy who hurt her. No matter how weird it is, that's devotion. And devotion is what I want to give to you."

Reba stopped folding laundry and turned to face Brock. "So, it wasn't really Henry?"

"No," Brock said, standing. "He was manipulated. He was told to do those things. And I always taught him to obey his authority. He was only doing what he was told."

Reba looked down. "And Darryl was just doing it to help Barbra Jean?"

"Yes. None of it was meant to hurt you. Barbra Jean didn't even know about it." He reached out and lifted her chin. "And I'm sorry for not believing you. I really am."

* * *

><p><em><strong>I think that was the most dialogue Brock has had in this story. Haha. Review? ((:<strong>_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Once again, flashbacks are in italics.**

The following month, Brock's chemo got more extensive. His hair became very thin, even losing parts of it here and there. He became weaker and weaker as the weeks went by.

Henry's behavior improved steadily after his talk with Brock. Reba didn't know the specifics, but she was glad Brock finally spoke to him about his actions. He seemed to be more than happy to obey since.

Esme was nearly six months old and growing like a weed while Jake was doing the same. He was spending more and more time at home because of Brock's weakening state and had also taken to making long lists of things he wanted for his sixteenth birthday.

Brock was tired from the chemo, but helped Reba in every way he could. And she let him. She wanted him to feel like he was still the big man because in her eyes, he always would be.

One evening, him and Jake were sitting on the couch while Reba sat on the floor, playing with Esme.

"You know, Dad," Jake said. "When I turn sixteen in February, I'm going to be able to drive."

"Jake," Reba said, glancing at her son. "You're not gettin' a car."

"I don't a car. I want a motorcycle."

"Jake..."

"Come on, Mom! It's cheaper than a car and it's safer!"

"I'll tell you what," Brock said. "If you still want a motorcycle when you turn sixteen, we can fix up my old Harley. Just me and you."

"Really?"

"Sure. We can put new paint on it and deck it out with chrome fixtures."

"Okay!"

"But you have to pass your driving test. A license for driving motorcycles is different than a license to drive a car."

"Right. I'm gonna go study right now."

Brock smiled and looked at Reba as he raced upstairs. "That worked out," He told her.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I was trying to figure out a way for Jake and me to get some time together. Working on the old motorcycle might just be the way to do that. We can do it for his birthday, just like I said."

Reba nodded, rolling a pink ball towards Esme, making her giggle. "Yeah, that is a good way to spend some one-on-one time with him. But please just talk to him about safety precautions. I don't want him gettin' in a wreck."

"I will. But he'll be fine, Reba. He's a good kid."

"And you take it easy." She looked at him, pointing a finger. "The doctor said not to overdo it."

He slowly stood. "I'll be okay. Say, do you want to take a test ride with me?"

"Brock, you know I hate motorcycles."

"Who said anything about motorcycles?" He winked at her and slowly made his way into the kitchen.

She grinned and shook her head, thinking about the day he got that motorcycle back when he was married to Barbra Jean.

* * *

><p><em>She knew it for sure now- the man was insane. Going out and buying a Harley just to look cool riding it. She stood out in her driveway, looking at it with him.<em>

_"So," She said. "What are you gonna do when the Segways come back?"_

_"Reba," Brock said, wiping the Harley down with a Terrycloth rag. "I bought this for me. Because it's fun. I enjoy it."_

_"Brock, you bought it because you want to be seventeen again. The cool kid. You're almost fifty-years-old, Brock. You should have bought a Hoveround instead of a Harley. For one thing, insurance would have covered it."_

_He smiled. "You wanna ride it?"_

_"What? No!"_

_"Oh, come on! It's fun!"_

_"Brock, there is nothing you could say or do to make me get on that motorcycle with you."_

_*six minutes later*_

_"Do I have to wear the helmet?"_

_Brock climbed on in front of her. "I guess not."_

_She took the helmet off and shook her hair out, seeing Brock watch her out of the corner of her eye in the side mirrors. He winked and said, "Don't be scared. I'll go slow."_

_"I'm not scared."_

_"Okay. Then I can go fast."_

_"Not too fast."_

_"Semi-fast." He reached around and grabbed her arms, wrapping them around his waist. "Hold on and don't let go."_

_He started the engine and shifted gears while going down on the clutch. Then they were off._

_As they gained speed, Reba buried her head in Brock's back. She was scared. Scared to death that they were going to wreck._

_"Are you okay?" Brock yelled over the engine._

_"Yes!" She yelled back, holding on tighter._

_"Are you having fun?"_

_"Kind of!"_

_He turned down a side street and prepared to circle the church parking lot as Reba opened her eyes the first time. She realized she was close to him. She could feel his abs through his shirt and she could smell his cologne. It was the same kind he wore when they were married and it made her want to rip his shirt right off his back and-_

_"We'll just swing around the block!" Brock yelled, interrupting her thoughts._

_"Okay!" She responded, trying to focus on wrecking again. It was surely better than her other thoughts._

_They finally made it home a few minutes later. Once there, Brock parked in the driveway, killing the engine and hopping off._

_"So, did you like it?" He asked, grabbing her hand to help her off._

_"Well, it was certainly a windy drive."_

_"Ah, you get used to it. But it would have been more fun if you would have let me pop a wheelie."_

_"I wanted to get through the ride in one piece."_

_He patted her arm. "Hey, I wouldn't have let anything happen to you."_

_She stood up straight, making her closer to him. He looked her in the eye and moved towards her slowly. He stopped when he was about two inches from her face._

_"You're breathing hard," He whispered._

_She didn't respond, but moved in closer. She didn't know what happened and she also didn't know why she felt the way she did. They were supposed to be divorced and moved on, not flirting in the driveway._

_"Why do I want to kiss you?" She asked quietly._

_"I don't know. Maybe the same reason I want to kiss you."_

_They were closer now._

_"Should we?" She asked_

_"I don't know."_

_She could feel his hot breath on her face. She looked at his lips, wishing they were touching hers. _

_"I really want to," She told him even more softly._

_"Then maybe we should."_

_Their lips touched and Reba felt shivers run up her arms. She didn't know how this happened. It just came out of left field._

_They parted slowly. Reba heard it as they looked at each other for a second before kissing again. This time, Brock slipped his arms around her waist, her hands holding onto his shoulders. His tongue touched her lips and she opened her mouth, gasping softly as her brain made the realization that she was kissing her married ex-husband. It scared her and turned her on all at the same time. _

_A moment later, Brock pulled away and sent a trail of kisses down her neck. She knew she should be thinking of a way to stop it. If she simply said the word 'stop,' she knew Brock would step back without hesitation. It was so easy, yet so hard._

_"What's happening?" She asked, her head tilting back, palms still holding tight to his shoulders._

_He pulled away, forcing her to look at him. "I don't know. Maybe we should continue to find out."_

_She bit her lip and nodded towards the garage/office. Brock grabbed her hand and led her inside, locking the door behind him and shoving her against it. Their lips crashed together once more, Brock grabbing her hips and bringing them to his own._

_When she felt him through his jeans was when her eyes sprung open, shaking her head. Their lips parted and she looked down, gasping._

_"What's wrong?" _

_She pulled his hands from her. "You're about to cheat on your wife."_

_Brock looked at her for a second before backing away. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know why I let that go on like I did."_

_"It's okay. I wanted it, too."_

_"I guess that's what it was."_

_"Sure."_

_"You know. Hormones."_

_"I know."_

_"It's been six months since I've done-"_

_"Brock, I understand, okay?"_

_He ran his hand through his hair as Reba stood up straight from where she had been leaning on the door. _

_"I'm sorry," He said again and put a hand on her shoulder, silently asking her to move so he could leave. She stepped forward and he slipped out, closing the door behind him. Reba didn't look at him as he left._

_Slowly, she walked to her desk and put her hands in her lap, thinking about how much she had wanted him to continue, as right or wrong as it might have been._

* * *

><p>Reba smiled at her memory and looked over at Esme, playing. Who knew that two and a half years later, her and Brock would be married with their fourth child.<p>

"Time is a strange thing," Reba told her baby girl. "Strange as strange can be."

* * *

><p><strong>There's only about two or three chapters left before the final oneshot story. Which is crazy because it seems like I just started posting this series. It's kind of sad! Haha. Review? (:<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: In case you haven't caught on, flashbacks are in italics.**

The months flew by and Esme turned one. The whole family gathered at Brock and Reba's house to celebrate the milestone. Even Kyra showed up, surprising everyone. Reba had Big Bird put on her cake on account of her taking a liking to it since Jake showed her the show a few weeks earlier. Everyone thought is was cute, especially Reba, who knew it had been Brock's favorite when he was little.

Everyone gathered at the dining room table, Esme in her highchair wearing a Sesame Street party hat. She was trying to reach for her cake, eager to smash it in her face.

"Esme," Reba called, dragging out her name. She held a camera in her hand, a lighter in the other. "Are you ready to blow out your candles?" She lit the single candle and everyone began to sing The Birthday Song.

The baby just sat there, smiling and moving around in her seat, making noises and trying to catch the candle's flame.

When the song ended, Reba said, "Blow out the candle, honey! Blow it out!"

"Esme, like this," Van said, blowing out his pretend candle.

"She doesn't know how," Kyra said. "Blow it out for her."

"She'll blow it out when she's ready," Reba said, turning to Esme. "Honey, do it like this." She blew gently towards the baby. "Watch Mommy. Blow out your candle. Go on."

"What if she never blows it out and the candle melts onto the cake?" Van asked.

"Then that's the piece you get." Reba scooted the cake closer to the baby. "Blow out your candle. Do it for Mama, please."

She made bubbles with her mouth and screeched, clapping her hands as the cake was pushed towards her. Reba sighed and blew out the candle herself, everyone cheering anyway. Reba snapped a photo as everyone clapped for the baby, making her smile.

"Good job, baby girl," Brock said as he grabbed the paper plates. "Who's the big girl now? Blowing out her own candles."

The first piece, Big Bird's head, went to Esme, of course, with Van getting the second piece. Reba saved the candle in a plastic bag to put in her baby book. She and Brock had started one when Esme was born and they planned to actually finish it. Something they hadn't with the other kids.

"Are you gonna let her open her presents now?" Jake asked. He had actually earned his own money to buy his little sister a birthday gift and Reba thought it was sweet that he couldn't for her to see it. She herself was curious.

"After cake," She told him, placing a piece in front of him. "Dang it. I forgot the orange soda in the kitchen." She started to stand, but Jake did so first.

"I'll get it."

"No, Jake, sit down." Brock stood, placing a hand on Jake's shoulder. "I'll get it."

"Brock..." Reba said softly. He had been told to take it even more easy as his health slowly declined.

Brock looked at Reba, looking at her eyes. "Reba, I'm fine, okay? Let me do this."

"I can get it. I don't want you to overexert yourself."

"I'm not in a wheelchair. I think I can handle it."

He moved around his chair and went to step down into the living room, but his feet got tangled up and he tripped, falling to the hardwood floor with a thud.

"Dad!" Jake and Cheyenne jumped up at the same time Van shouted, "Mr. H!" and Reba yelped, "Brock!"

He rolled over onto his back. "I'm fine." He cracked a bit of a grin. "Just took a little tumble."

Everyone quickly went to him, trying to help him to his feet. Esme, who was left at the table, wasn't fond of the attention not being on her.

"Dad!"

Everyone who was beside Brock trying to help him up looked over their shoulders to see the one-year-old with cake all over her face grinning just as big as she could.

"You know," Brock said, still on the floor. "I was wondering what her first word would be. Can't say I'm upset with it."

* * *

><p>Those incidents kept happening. Brock would just collapse and fall to the floor without reason. Sometimes he would lose consciousness and not come to for several hours. Reba became very concerned and on Brock's next doctor's visit, she brought up the occurrences.<p>

After some tests were run, the two sat in Dr. Knight's private office. Like Dr. McElroy said, he was one of the best in the business. He was compassionate and Reba really appreciated that. He truly cared about his patients.

"Brock," Dr. Knight said, a folder that held the test results in his wrinkled hands. "These results are..." His voice trailed off as he cleared his throat. "Surprising. In my thirty years in the business, I have never seen this. And it's not good. Not at all."

Reba reached for Brock's hand. It was cold.

"What are the results?" Brock asked, trying to hide his shaking voice.

The doctor's eyes were misty. "Dr. Hart, in the many months you've been going through chemo, we expected the tumor to shrink. Not a lot, but at least a couple centimeters. It actually grew. About an inch in diameter. It seems as if the tumor is thriving off the chemo. Now that it's larger, it's pressing against all kinds of nerves and blood vessels. There is a great chance for a brain aneurysm.

Reba gripped Brock's hand tighter just like she did the night they told the kids they were back together.

"What can be done?" Brock asked.

Dr. Knight shook his head. "Nothing is known about the type of tumor you have. It doesn't even have a name. If the tumor keeps growing at the rate it's growing...well...I'm terribly sorry."

Brock swallowed as tears welled up in Reba's eyes.

"How long do I have?" He finally asked

Dr. Knight blinked a few times, trying to figure out how to answer. Finally, he decided there was no easy way to put it. "Mere weeks. Maybe days."

Reba broke down after holding it in for so long. She turned to Brock who reached out to hold her. A memory ran through her mind. One from long ago.

* * *

><p><em>She had been married to Brock for a week and was so excited to start her life with him. she wanted to have as many babies as she could take care of and she wanted to cook and clean for him. She wanted to make him the happiest man in the world. And the only way she could do that was to stay focused, so she was taking Brock to church with her.<em>

_"Honey, are you about ready?" She called from their tiny apartment bathroom._

_"Yeah!" He yelled from the bedroom._

_Reba smiled at her reflection in the mirror, satisfied at last with her makeup, and hurried to her and Brock's bedroom to check out her new husband's sui._

_He stood in front of Reba's vanity mirror, crouched down low to see himself, and struggling to knot his tie._

_"Need some help?" She asked._

_He stood up straight and turned around. "If you don't mind. I'm ready to just tie the thing in a bow."_

_Reba smiled and went to him. "Only you could pull it off."_

_As she worked at the tie, Brock watched her. He smiled at her, happy he was with her after putting off proposing to her for so long. He had been so nervous, so scared she would say no. But she had said yes and the rest is history._

_"I love you," He told her when she finished._

_"I love you, too." She responded, kissing his cheek._

_Brock smiled and shook his head. "No, those aren't the right words." He pulled her down onto the bed. "I adore you. I wake up with you beside me and I smile because I know you adore me, too." He caressed her cheek. "This week has been the best week of my life. And it's because of you."_

_Reba smiled, looking into his big, blue eyes. "Brock, you have no idea how happy that makes me. I don't know what I'd do without you. If you ever go, I want to go with you."_

* * *

><p>That night, the two laid in bed after making love. Brock held on tight to her bare body, trying to steady his breaths as Reba silently counted his heartbeats from where she lay on his chest.<p>

"Reba," He said quietly. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but we have to."

"I know," She responded, closing her eyes and feeling his hot skin against her own.

He kissed the top of her head before saying, "There's a bank account I made that has some money in it. I started it after our divorce." He ran his hand down her back.

"Why?"

"I don't know, really. I just felt like I needed to. Turns out I made the right decision."

"And you want me to use it?"

"Yes. That way you won't have to work and you can raise Esme like you wanted to."

She lifted her head, peering at him in the dark. "I wanted to raise her with you."

Brock took her face in his hands. "I know, but things change. Plans change. You just have to learn to go with the flow."

"I don't want to go with the flow. I want you. I want you to stay here and raise Esme with me. I want you to grow old with me, Brock." Tears started running down her cheeks. "It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"It'll be okay. I promise you."

She shook her head, his grip not wavering. "Nothing will be the same. It won't be okay."

"Reba. Stop it. You're strong. You can do this. You can raise her and you can send Jake off to college just like you did with Cheyenne and Kyra."

"But I had your help. What if everything goes wrong?"

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded, sniffling as the tears kept falling.

"Okay. Then trust me when I say that it will be alright."

Her hands held tight onto his shoulders. "I love you too much to let you go."

"You have to, Reba."

"I can't do it again."

"I'm sorry I ever made you let me go the first time."

She was sobbing in his arms now, shaking her head as the cries escaped her lips.

"I miss you already." She touched his face with her fingertips. "What if I forget? What if I forget you?"

"With any luck, you will. I don't want you to hurt."

She buried her face in his chest, trying to burn the way he felt into her brain.

"God, why?" She whispered. "Why?"

"Hey," Brock said softly, shifting beneath her. "Don't cry now. Shhh. It's okay." He gently rubbed her back, trying to get her to calm down. He knew she would make herself sick if she kept sobbing. He kept whispering to her until she wore herself out crying. After awhile, she stopped, unable to cry anymore. She just laid on his chest and let him hold her for maybe the last time.

"Do you remember when we first met?" He whispered.

She nodded, closing her eyes.

"We were so young and stupid. Your mama hated me. I taught you how to climb out of your window and I'd meet you in the driveway and we'd sneak off to dances."

"I remember."

"We'd get so drunk. Man, we'd get wasted." He smiled when he got a chuckle out of her. "Then we'd sober up for a while. Then we'd drink some more." Again, a chuckle. "But you know, I liked it better when we weren't drinking. I liked it better when we were naked in the bed of my truck. Remember our first time?"

She nodded, trying not to let that lethal first tear fall.

"I told you I'd done it before, but I really hadn't. I was just as nervous as you."

"I was shaking," She whispered.

"I know. I thought you were cold."

Another chuckle escaped her lips and he smiled once more.

"You know, I tried to make it last." He laughed. "It was over in about five seconds, I think."

Reba smiled. "It wasn't even that long."

He nudged her and shook his head. "What did you expect?"

"Not that. The movies ruined me. I thought you'd hold me in your arms and make love to me for hours and hours."

"Ha. Yeah. Sorry to disappoint ya."

He paused a moment before saying, "Then we got married and had Cheyenne. Do you know how scared I was?"

"Do you know how scared _I_ was? I was with her all day. I was afraid I'd break her, she was so tiny."

"She grew up to be an okay kid."

"Yeah, she's alright." Reba smiled. "Kyra, she's okay, too."

"Yeah, Jake's pretty good. But that Esme? Whoo. Don't know 'bout her."

The two shared a laugh before Brock said, "I adore our children, Reba. Thank you for making them with me."

"Never thought I'd be thanked for that."

"I mean it. They're wonderful. I'm lucky to have gotten to get to know them." He stopped and held her closer. "More so than that, I'm lucky to have gotten to know you. I love you. So much. So very much, Reba. I'm pleased with how it all turned out. Wouldn't have changed a thing. Would you?"

Reba shook her head, remembering. "I wouldn't."

* * *

><p><em>Tears poured down her face as she watched the man above her. She tried to remember every inch of his body. She tried to remember how he felt, the way he moved, the way he made her feel. No one else could make her feel the way Brock did. She hoped that making love one last time would hel<em>_p Brock to see how much he loved her. Maybe then he would stay._

_But as he moved in her, she knew he had made his decision to go with Barbra Jean. It was his eyes. His eyes said it all._

_"Don't go," She whispered. _

_She knew he didn't hear her, but that didn't stop her from saying it once more. _

_"Don't go."_

_He finished and rolled beside her, gasping for air._

_"I'll always love you," He managed to say. "Until the day I die, Reba, I'll always love you."_

_"Then stay," She begged._

_"You know the circumstances," He reminded her. "I can't. But you'll be okay. You're a survivor. This is just a journey. We have to walk it with our heads held high. We all have lessons to learn. Hard ones. But when it's all over, we're going to be better people."_

_Reba held onto him. "But I want to go through it together. I can't do it on my own. I need you, Brock. I need you."_

_"It's going to be okay. I promise." He kissed her forehead. "I'll deposit some money into your bank account first thing tomorrow. You won't have to worry about that for a while." He held her close. "Don't worry about a thing."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Obviously, I don't know anything about brain tumors or cancer, so let's just pretend what the doctor said can really happen, okay? Cool. Anywho, I hoped I made y'all cry. I know that sounds horrible, but that's what I was going for. Hope I achieved it. One more chapter to go. Review?<strong>_


	10. Chapter 10

Van held his hands over Cheyenne's eyes as they walked outside, the surprise snow crunching beneath their feet.

"Where are we going?" Cheyenne asked.

"Right here," He said, stopping in the driveway. "Merry Christmas." He uncovered her eyes.

Before her, Cheyenne saw a pink Cadillac convertible and shrieked. "Van! Is this for me?"

Van smiled as she ran to it, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just for you."

She opened the door and slid in. "This is great!"

Van climbed in beside her. "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it? I love it!" She ran her hands along the steering wheel. "So this is why you've been sneaking around and working late- to pay for this!"

"Yep." He grinned. "I hope you're not mad."

She shook her head and gave him a kiss. "I'm so not mad."

Van grabbed her hand. "Good. Because I worked really hard to get this all put together."

"You did it all by yourself?"

"Well, Rose's dad helped me. He builds cars for a living. Oh, and I have one more thing to show you. Come on."

He motioned her out of the car and ran around to the back end. "Look," He said, pointing to the license plate. "For your dad."

The tags read: MEMRY BEH, meaning Memory; Brock Enroll Hart.

Cheyenne smiled, wrapping her arms around Van and thanking him once again for the wonderful gift. She let a tear fall, however, as she thought about the tags. Her dad. She loved her dad. And she would keep on loving him until the day she died.

* * *

><p>Christmas was Brock's favorite time of year. Reba had put up the Christmas tree in the bedroom so Brock could look at it. He didn't get out of bed often. He was too weak to walk, but surprised the doctors by making it until the holiday.<p>

Reba sat beside him a lot. She read to him, sang to him, played games with him when he felt up to it, and brought up Esme to be with him every time she was awake.

But on Christmas morning, Esme was downstairs with Jake and Henry, making what they thought was a surprise pancake breakfast. Reba knew all about it, though, and she appreciated their kind actions.

"Reba," Brock called quietly from the bed.

She walked out of the bathroom and went to him. "Do you need more water?"

"No. Not right now. I just need you." He motioned her down. "Today. It's today."

Reba knelt beside him, shaking her head. "No. Not today. Not today."

Brock nodded slowly. "I can feel it. It's the cold that gives it away."

Tears ran down her face. "Are you sure? Maybe you're wrong."

"I can tell. I can feel it deep down."

Reba grabbed his limp hand and held it to her heart. "I can't let you go yet."

"It'll be okay."

The radio on Reba's end-table softly played a song. One they had kept in their hearts for years. With a shaky voice, Reba sang along.

"How do I live without you? I want to know. How do I breathe without you if you ever go? How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?"

Brock squeezed her hand. "You'll figure it out."

He stopped loving her today.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please don't kill me... I had to do it. I believe it was Fake Cubic Zirconium that said early on there was gonna be death in the future. You hit the nail right on the head. When I first read that review, I thought, "Dang it. How do they know that?" Haha. But anyway...if you haven't heard the song How Do I Live, go listen to it! LeAnn Rimes and Trisha Yearwood both recorded it, but I like Trisha's version better. Look it up. And please, please review. I know this was short, but I'll post the very last oneshot story super soon. (:<strong>_


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